Something Like Love
by rune101
Summary: Four. Maybe he should rename himself Five because he's afraid; Afraid of falling deeper and deeper for the Dauntless leader. He refuses to call it love. That would make the ache in his chest all the more real. He knew it would be so much easier to fall for someone like Tris... but his heart yearned for those distinct tattoos and those piercing blue eyes. Four (Tobias)/Eric. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Just letting you know ahead of time, this will be Four (Tobias)/Eric (in that order) with a slight bit of Four/Tris and possible allusions to Peter/Al and Christina/Will. There will be smut between two men, and in fact there is some in this first chapter: this is a slash fic! I may add other pairings later but that's the gist of it. In so far as ages go, keeping to canon, all Initiates are 16, however I'm going with the movie's ages for Four and Eric (24) because I'm using more of the movie's universe than the book's. I.e. Eric is blond with tattoos on his neck and his eyebrow pierced.

Disclaimer~ I do not own, more do I claim to own any characters, settings, or franchises depicted herein.

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><p>It was a day before The Choosing; a fresh batch of recruits, both Dauntless born and those stupid and bold enough to think a transfer from their old faction would be anything less than hell would be on their way come the next day. Eric looked self satisfied and Four could already tell the blond was thinking up new ways to make them sweat, bleed, and cry: or maybe all three at the same time.<p>

"What do you think this years' gonna look like?" He asked himself more than the other, glancing at his hands, rough and callused. He dropped them at his sides as if he had suddenly lost interest in them. "Wonder if we'll have any Stiffs this year."

Four made a noncommittal noise in his throat, not about to take the bait. Besides, the chances of an Abnegation born transferring were damn near nil. If his father hadn't had his belt and the repetitive excuse of _helping _him, he doubted he would have left either. But he couldn't change the past. Dauntless made him face his fears. Of course it was always easier knowing he wouldn't have to stare them in the eye. His dad would be in Abnegation and he would be in Dauntless; their paths would not cross. And should they ever... Well, Tobias wasn't a helpless victim anymore because Tobias didn't exist. Tobias was weak. Four was strong. He was _Four _now.

"Spar with me," Eric said suddenly and Four sighed. He had known it was coming. It was usually how things between them started.

"Eric-"

"Come on. Unless you're afraid."

"The only thing I'm afraid of putting you out of commission. You can't exactly train when you're sleeping," Four said with a cocky smirk. "And we both know who's going to win here."

Eric's face shifted into a snarl for a brief second before relaxing into a cool state of calm. It was the calm before the storm. Before his cruel mind and intelligent lips could let loose what would surely trap Four into fighting with him anyhow. Eric was good at getting what he wanted. Erudite had served him a little too well in that. "I'm always improving. Dauntless leadership doesn't stay at the same level one day from the next." Eric's eyes were blown with lust and adrenaline. This appealed to Four.

Their couplings were rarely any different than their sparring. Always felt good at the end.

Eric knew he had won out when he saw Four's eyes trace his body, lingering at his crotch, tented heavily against his pants, and sliding appreciatively over his backside. He led the way into the training ring and they both stood close, not bothering with the starting space that most opponents afforded one another.

They were both offensive fighters, their guards held up loosely as they circled and closed in on each other.

Eric went in with a punch to the gut that Four sidestepped. Four went in for a leg sweep that just barely missed the mark. Eric was an impatient fighter though; it was something that worked against him, even for all his smarts. He dived in for a full-on tackle. This time instead of dodging it, Four waited for the other to be just close enough, mere inches before impact, before half dropping his own body onto the stiff mat and wrapping his legs around Eric's own, taking them both down.

Eric's head bounced off the floor as his ears rung and he blinked away blurriness. His body ached from the collision but if he took too long then Four would have even more of an advantage. Four had him in a hold, his arms trapped under him and his legs effectively rendered useless under the other's. His head was free though and he knocked it into Four's jaw, flipping their positions when the other recoiled.

It wasn't a very good tactical decision to pin the other with his full body, leaving one arm unattended, but it was all he had time to do in the split second he had gained.

Four used that same free hand to punch Eric in the face, enough to daze, but not enough to bruise. This pissed Eric off to no end though. Four was going _easy _on him. It was _unacceptable. _Four had an opening for his throat and he didn't take it. The thought repeated itself over and over in Eric's mind.

_He's going _easy _on me. _To Eric, that was the same as being spat on and told he wasn't a worthy enough opponent to fight. That he was _weak _and _below _him.

The anger drew him into a frenzy and another rush of adrenaline had him flinging Four off only to straddle him and punch him over and over. The face, the chest, the gut; there was no real target in mind.

Four drew up his knee and drove it into Eric's side, reversing their positions and holding the other down. Eric grunted at being restrained, his legs once again pinned, his arms held down, and a shoulder keeping him from headbutting the other once more. All he could do was bite the other like an animal. But that wasn't fighting. That was desperation. And desperation meant fear.

He tried forcing the other off of him, but Four wasn't relenting. He struggled some more, grunted with the exertion, growled, yelled, and then stilled.

He wasn't giving up. Dauntless did not _give up_. He had to wait on the other. Had to wait for Four to deliver to knockout blow.

But it never came. Four simply shifted his hold, his head buried in the crook of Eric's neck, breath leaving him in harsh pants. He wasn't going to show the other man up by giving him what he wanted, a fight that ended with him no longer able to fight back; instead he was going to give the other what he _needed. _"It's _over._" he said.

"Not until-" Eric started and was cut off by lips closing over his own. The shock had the blond not reciprocating at first, but only a few seconds later he was kissing back passionately, a dance of tongue and teeth that took practiced skill to avoid causing the other to bleed, a careful toe of the line between intense and aggressive.

Eric bucked up, his erection still in full swing and Four ground down, their hardness meeting and causing Eric's eyes to roll back and his head to draw back against the mat, delicious sounds coming from his throat.

No one else was in the training room, and even had there have been, they would have known enough to make themselves scarce. Eric never took too kindly to having what he wanted snatched away. Besides, two strong Dauntless fucking in the open wasn't an uncommon occurrence, be it a strong man atop another, two fierce women, or those of the opposite sex.

"Nice to know you're gonna fuck me on the same mat the new recruits will be training on," Eric said with a smirk, voice slightly breathy.

"Something to remember me by," was Four's reply as he dived back in for a kiss. Eric was stunned into silence when Four didn't bite or nip, just licked and drove his tongue into his mouth, the silken appendages moving something akin to a choreographed dance than a fight for dominance.

"_Mmmn,_" Eric hadn't meant to let the sound escape, but it had. He hated the fear that arose when the thought occurred to him that Four might be disgusted at the sound, but they were unfounded as it instead riled the other up, starting back up the rutting from before.

Four's mouth moved from Eric's own to the tattoos on the man's neck, sucking and biting. If the ink weren't so dark there would have been a mark. Four was careful never to mark Eric, as the other was still a Dauntless leader. No one was crazy enough to confront the man, but too much talk wouldn't be good.

He stroked his fingers gently over his brow piercing and face, causing Eric to raise said brow and chuckle over the sentimentality. "Definitely an Abnegation born." Four rolled his eyes.

"But a Dauntless _now_." Blue eyes peered into his own dark ones as if they were searching for some thing, and having found it, he initiated a kiss, not unlike the one Four had just given him. With his other hand, Four had easily undone both his and Eric's button and pulled both zippers down. Eric was biting his lip when the brunet took him in his hand and began a harsh stroking rhythm, turning perfectly, thumb caressing the sensitive head in a way that drove him insane.

He didn't even register Four ridding them of the fabric that came between them, tossing it somewhere to the right.

Four didn't relent with his ministrations, but when enough pre-come had collected, he rubbed it onto his finger and slid it inside of him. Preparation was always Four's prerogative; he never took him without it. This wasn't the first time though, they had been physical in more ways than simple sparring partners since the time that they themselves were Initiates. So he spurred the process along, taking two of Four's fingers and sliding it into himself, groaning at the sudden stretch. It was on the cusp of uncomfortable.

The brunet continued to stretch him, adding another finger and reaching inside for the bundle of oversensitive nerves and finding the mark; it made Eric's vision white out and his strong thighs shake.

Unashamed, he spread his legs wider and Four slipped between them, removing his fingers to replace them with something longer and thicker. Eric gasped as he felt the transition, his opening stretched over Four's cock as the man pushed in to the hilt, eliciting an expletive from them both.

He didn't stay still too long, just a few seconds, before he was setting an intense pace, nearly pulling all the way out just to push all the way back in. Eric's lips glistened with the same moisture that dripped from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. His eyes were more black than blue, blown wide with lust and rolling back as over and over again as Four repeatedly hit his prostate. His voice was betraying him, letting loose all the sounds he wished to contain, but he could hardly find it in him to care when Four was inside him, making him feel nothing short of bliss.

Eric's legs wrapped around Four and Four lifted his hips, delving impossibly deeper. Eric wasn't in the frame of mind to kiss; in fact that quietly brilliant mind was clear of all thought, so Four opted instead to kiss his neck over his throat, lick the shell of his ear. "_God_," Eric had nearly screamed when Four had pressed his thumbs over his hardened nipples, pinching them and then setting soft apologetic kisses upon each in turn. "_Fuck, Four_," Eric ground out, too lost in sensation to catch Four return that that was _exactly _what he was already doing.

Long and drawn out was their thing, but Eric was already coming, his untouched cock spurting across his own chest and stomach, his walls narrowing and his voice rising. With a few more powerful thrusts, Four felt himself go over the edge, clinging to Eric who ran his blunt nails down his back and releasing all he had inside the blond who received it with a loud groan, hot come spilling inside him.

Eric had come so hard he was dazed and Four's softening dick was still inside him. He let his head drop down onto the mat, uncaring that it bounced once, and tried to regain some semblance of a regular breathing pattern.

Four had let his full weight fall onto the other, his member slipping from inside him. Come dripped out onto the mat, slowly leaking out from Eric who still could not form words. It was a full five minutes later until either of them had come down enough from their post coital bliss to dress and haphazardly wipe the mess they had made.

"Bye," Four said to fill the silence. They never really talked much afterward. Eric looked at him, his eyes moving up over his form and turned away, walking down toward the door.

Four watched him leave and felt a heaviness in his chest that he promised himself he wouldn't allow. He couldn't help it though. He wasn't just one thing. It was the curse he bore as a Divergent. He could not be one thing. Logic told him Eric and he could never be. His heart told him it had to.

A few minutes later he left to go to his own room and sat on his bed. His mind flashed with images of the other. He was being too sentimental - he _knew _- but knowing did nothing to stop it. He wanted to hold Eric. Had wanted it for nearly eight years.

The sky decided then to darken and rain, as if it sensed his turmoil and wanted him to drown in it. It had rained the day he left Abnegation, running away from a fear he could not triumph. But Dauntless didn't run. They faced their fears or died to them. He couldn't face his father. He would never be able to. The man believed he could beat the Divergence out of him.

If only it was so simple.

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><p>He knew he should get some sleep but his mind would not rest enough for him to do so. When Four looked out of the window he realized the rain had stopped. <em>Odd<em>, he thought. It had just started and it was pouring. It had seemed like it would go on all night from how it had looked. He stood up and touched the glass of his window which he had thought would be cold. It surprised him by being warm and the sun in his view was setting, lighting up the sky with oranges, reds, blues, and purples.

His eye caught movement reflected in the glass and honed in on the figure that made it to him before he could whirl around. He felt rather than saw the brow piercing, warm breath ghosting against his neck.

He turned around to see piercing grey-blues. They looked softer somehow.

Simultaneously they moved for a kiss, deep and passionate, and ended up on Four's bed. Four shifted so he was leaning over Eric. "Eric..."

"Now you're not gonna get all mushy on me, are you?"

Four laughed but said nothing. His heart was pounding so hard it ached, or maybe it just ached in general. His mouth had been mere moments away from saying something he could never take back.

"Something like that," he whispered, a false sarcastic grin in place.

"Well don't. We can never be. I don't love you and you don't love me. We're Dauntless. We don't have that luxury. And you'd do well to remember it."

But hewasn't _just _Dauntless.

He wished it so though. "Now c'mon. Wake up."

"Wake up?" Four blinked and they were on a rail, dangling from way up above and Eric was walking away while he clung for dear life, miles above the ground.

Four shot up out of bed. It was dark and he had fallen asleep. It was still raining, the sound of it deafening against the windowpanes... So it was just a dream. He had fallen asleep and dreamt. Too bad his dreams were all too real.

Dream Eric was right. It could never be. He was Divergent and the other Dauntless. In the end, it was him against the world, and that meant Eric too. Especially Eric. If the man ever found out, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

But maybe it would be okay. He would rather die by his hand than any other. Eric would not look away when his finger pushed the trigger. And maybe he would mourn him in his own way. Quiet and secret. But he would still have an irreplaceable home in his heart then, right?

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><p>"I'll go up and meet the Initiates, that leaves you with the net." Eric had been saying. There was a cruel smirk on his face and Four was sure he would be pushing the cowards in.<p>

Four sighed and took his place by the net. He would do the business of hauling shaken Initiates from it and letting Eric give the rude awakening that if they weren't good enough they would find themselves factionless.

It had been at least fifteen minutes, and unless Eric had dramatically extended his welcome speech, someone should have jumped. It was moments after this thought occurred to him that he heard echoes of Eric's voice, impatient and booming.

"_Today _Initiate," echoed all the way down and Eric readied himself. Hopefully the initiate would land in the net. If not then he would have to try and catch them. He had no control over whether they missed the hole completely or not though. There had been some nasty accidents before.

Mere seconds later a girl had fallen back-first into the net looking ghostly pale, yet she hadn't screamed on the way down. Four took an unconscious step back when he realized she was from Abnegation. In his nearly seven years as a trainer, no one from Abnegation had chosen to transfer to Dauntless. No one but him.

He helped her from the net and she was breathing heavily when he asked her her name. "My name. It's-"

"If it's a hard one you can change it." Tobias hadn't been a hard name but he had been afforded the opportunity to start over, so he would give it to her in kind. Just like all the Initiates before her and even he himself. His own trainer let him become someone else: someone stronger.

She hesitated, eyes not making contact while she stared at her feet and then looked about the stone room that led to the training hall. "Tris," she finally settled on and despite her plain and weak outward appearance, Four felt a fire burn within her. He figured he would keep an eye on her like his trainer did him. She had potential.

"First Jumper: Tris!" He yelled and that triggered another jumper, though from the ungraceful way he had landed, Four was almost certain Eric had pushed him in.

They kept coming: one after the other after that. The rest of them had opted to go with their real names, though he hadn't really offered the alternative. After the last jumper had made it, a girl with dark hair and a brooding demeanor that would fit right at home, Eric had jumped. Four felt the urge to help the other man out of the netting, but of course he didn't. Eric would be pissed and feel disrespected, so instead he caught the attention of all before him with his eyes. He could pretty easily tell the Dauntless born from the Transfers. The Transfers flocked together, standing close and whispering excitedly.

"Dauntless born, over there, Transfers, you're with me," Four said and Eric stepped close. Part of him wanted to shove the blond away, didn't want him so close that he could feel the heat of the other's body near his own.

But Eric liked messing with the Transfers: his version of giving them a hard time. It was more than a little sadistic and made Four wonder of the state of his mind to feel for someone like him. He would not say love. If he said it out loud then it would be cemented. "I guess we can we what they're made of," the blond said.

Tris' eyes had been trained on the brunet trainer the whole time. There was something unshakably mysterious about the man. She wanted to know more. Biting her lip she gave a noncommittal affirmation to whatever Christina had said and again let her gaze fall on the man who had helped her from the net.

"Well I didn't have to play Catch the Falling Initiate this year," Four said in response. Eric smirked, gaze roving over the man and caught the eye of another who was doing the same. A mousy looking Stiff. It was odd to have a Stiff as a Transfer Initiate. As far as he knew - and as a Dauntless leader, he _knew _- there hadn't been a single Abnegation Transfer since Four.

Her gaze was mostly on the side of curious, with just an undertone of attraction. It wasn't innocent enough to simply be admiration. Neither was it a lustful gaze that begged for a quick fuck. She was previously Abnegation after all. She would want something more than that.

That thought made his brow crease. "I'm Four and I'll be your trainer," the brunet turned, waiting for Eric to do the same but was met with silence. "And this is Eric." he said when he realized Eric was not going to.

Eric was focused on the Initiate. Her auburn hair was in a bun as plain as her grey clothes. Her skirt was long and as uncomplimentary as the rest of her. Add to that she looked weak and her face was plain. What would Four ever see in her, beside a reflection of his old faction? She was still looking at Four, her eyes glittering now that she had been given a name.

"Four? As in the number Four?" Another Initiate spoke up. She had short dark hair, olive skin, and was standing near the First Jumper.

"Yes." Four answered simply, his face in no way amused.

Still she pressed on. She was obviously from Candor. Idiots didn't know when to shut up. "What happened, one, two, and three taken?"

"What's your name?" he asked instead as he approached, and the playful look in her eye withered. She didn't look him in the eye either when he stood a full head over her.

"C-Christina." her voice was neither self satisfied or joking. She was scared. It made Eric grin.

"Well, _Christina_, here in Dauntless you'll learn to _shut your mouth_." Christina flinched, something fearful and cowardly that bothered Eric, but it was Four who had been affronted so it was in his hands, and he wasn't making a big deal of it. Besides, the First Jumper was looking at Four with wide astonished eyes, and he was certain Christina wouldn't be making any more jokes about his name. At least not in front of him, anyway.

Eric followed behind Four who led them through the training area, which was self explanatory, and to the living quarters where Four cracked a snarky joke of his own about Christina being right at home with everything in the open.

Walking through, most of the Transfer Initiates started to look a bit squeamish. The beds were on hard metal frames, adorned with rust. They were dirty, old, and haggard. Their blankets were little more than reflectors. The showers were close quarters, same with the toilets, with no divisions of any kind. There was no comfort, no privacy.

"Are these the rooms for the girls or the boys?" Someone asked.

"Both." Four answered. "I hope you're not shy. Because you'll shower, eat, sleep, piss, and shit with your fellow Dauntless."

Quiet until now, Eric stepped forward and observed the Initiates. "We've got new clothes for you. Clothes fitting for Dauntless. And then you'll burn your old ones. You're Dauntless now. There's no changing." A chorus of nervous chatter sounded. He caught whispers of fear and homesickness. What-ifs of leaving and going back to their old factions too. There was no leaving. But they would learn that soon enough.

"What an asshole," Christina had been saying as they moved through the line. They already had been embarrassed by having to change in front of one another after learning that their new home was practically made up of four brick walls. There wasn't a hint of comfort to be seen. "Can you believe he said that to me?" Will and Al agreed that it was uncalled for while Peter, a few paces ahead of them, made note that she had it coming.

Tris observed Four. He and Eric were far off down the hallway awaiting their arrival. She then turned her eyes to the contained fire pits they were to toss their old clothes into and unconsciously gripped her dress tighter. Every piece of who they were was billowing up in thin tendrils of smoke. A large part of her questioned if the excitement of Dauntless had been worth leaving her mom and dad in Abnegation.

It was true that she had wanted to ride the train and climb the walls and do everything a Stiff wouldn't. But was it really _worth _it?

Before she knew it she had stepped up to the pit. She didn't have time to linger, not with the line steadily pushing behind her, but it wasn't easy to drop her clothes in. She did, of course. Four had already made an example of Christina - of people who didn't do what they were told to do, or supposed to do, and she didn't want to be next.

They were all dressed similarly, tight fitting black pants that somehow breathed and moved like a second skin and a black tank top.

The tour ended with them in the cafeteria which was unnerving in how packed it was. Christina saw the spot next to Will and Al, and least pleasant of all, _Four, w_hich was quickly becoming her least favorite number.

She moved to walk in another direction but everyone else looked no less inviting and she didn't want to squeeze in next to a stranger; what if she bumped into someone? They'd surely rearrange her face. "How about we sit here," and of course Tris would seem dead set on having the two of them near the man.

Eric was nowhere in sight, thankfully, though he hadn't done anything. Yet. It was her upbringing in Candor that let her see past façades. He was worse, some way, somehow. It was always the quiet ones anyway.

Tris picked at her hamburger, not quite sure how to go about eating it. Abnegation didn't eat hamburgers, as Will so delightfully pointed out. "What textbook did you swallow," was Christina's contribution, which ultimately prompted talk of their old factions.

Four had been trying his hardest to ignore them but then Tris went and opened her mouth, reminiscing of Abnegation and her family and all he could think of was his father and the belt coiled around his hand, poised to whip the Divergence out of him for his own _good. _"Stop talking about your old factions!" he yelled. "You're Dauntless now." The group chanced a glance his way them quieted. Tris on the other hand didn't seem put off.

"And what about you? Were you a Transfer or a Dauntless born?" The question had been innocent enough he wasn't going to reveal he was from Abnegation. All he could think of was them finding out immediately that he Marcus' son. That he was Tobias: the boy who fled to get away from the beatings. They would ask if it was true. Try and form some type of camaraderie. But he wasn't like them.

They would soon enough become Dauntless. Just one type of thing and he would be stuck Divergent. "What makes you think you can talk to me?" he rebuffed instead. It was so much easier to push people away than to let them in.

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><p>Eric looked over the railing and watched the Initiates dine. Loud chatter filled the room, echoing off the walls. His gaze passed over Four who usually dined alone, only now he was talking to the First Jumper. Despite whatever he had said that had quieted her friends, she went on and even had the audacity to smile at him. He wanted to jump over the railing, slam his hands onto the table and demand to know what she had said and why she was saying it.<p>

Because if she thought she had something in her that would interest Four, she had another thought coming.

Max examined him, followed his eyes, and laughed. "That eerie green monster is showing, plain as day."

Eric didn't take too kindly to the insinuation that he was jealous. They weren't a _thing. _But there _would _be hell to pay if whatever they were stopped because of that girl, who was a third of their age younger. They were grown ups and she was a little girl trying to sneak into the party.

They waited in plain view and the Dauntless born got the cue, slamming their cups up and down onto the table; the Transfers looked around confused at first but then did the same. Eric let Max do the talking and of course the man went for theatrics. All _he_ cared about was the man down below who was currently peering into his steel cup as if it held the answers to all his unanswered questions. He caught Four looking at Tris when she had stood up with the rest of the Initiates and grit his teeth, his mind shifting into attack mode the way it did against an exceptional opponent. It made no sense though. She wouldn't make it into Dauntless. She would be factionless sooner or later.

She was neither a rival nor a threat. She wasn't worth his time, nor was she worth Four's notice. Yet she had it. And he could feel the stirrings of anger beneath his calm seas.

No one but him had ever drawn Four's notice. Four and he were something like rivals: if rivals fought and fucked. But Four wasn't looking at her like he looked at him. There was something else to his gaze. Eric didn't know what it was, but he _did _know he didn't like the First Jumper one bit.


	2. Chapter 2

Four had stared a few moments more at Tris. She looked a whole lot more appealing in skin tight black than loose grey. The thought briefly crossed his mind that she would be better for preserving his sanity than Eric ever would. She was straightforward. She wasn't shaken by his position over her or the cold way he had regarded her. Still, he knew she would merely be a placeholder and a reminder of what he ran away from. He didn't want to see the Abnegation reflected in her eyes.

"Initiates!" Max called to attention. Four looked over nonchalantly and figured he'd stick around long enough to find out if the man had finally changed his opening speech or not; it was getting a little redundant hearing the same one one year to the next. "You have chosen the warrior faction, tasked with the protection of our city and all who reside in it. You are the peacekeepers." He hadn't, Four thought with a sigh and slipped easily between enraptured Initiates to be on his way to his room. There was no reason for him to linger any longer than he already had.

His eyes fell on the walls made up of cold stone, unwelcoming with decades of memories etched into them. Dank and dimly lit seemed to be an all around theme, and it made Four wonder what was going through the Initiates' heads. This was no paradise and they were no heroes - no saviors. They would not be thanked or loved for their efforts. Instead they stood as a grim reminder of what happened when one did not do what was expected of them. Four liked to think they were more a tool to keep people in their places than a servant and protector to them. After all, serving people was Abnegation's faculty.

Footsteps and controlled breath set off all the preemptive warning alarms in his head; he had been walking rather leisurely but stilled and spun around when he felt the presence of another following him. One could never be too careful. All his time in Intelligence hadn't been for naught. "Come out."

"You were always good at that," Eric said, stepping from behind a corner, cocky smirk in place and arms crossed. "Guess that was why you kept turning down leadership." It was far from the truth, but Four wasn't too keen on correcting the other. Dauntless wasn't the courageous paragon it used to be; it was corrupted and rotten to its very core. He refused to be a part of that. He refused to embrace what it stood for now. He was still trying to figure out what was going on. So many things were changing.

For his part, Eric couldn't possibly fathom why the other had so strongly turned down the coveted position; he didn't treat it as a great honor, something that silently angered the other leaders. It was _supposed_ to be a great prestige, though he would admit that the opportunity for fieldwork was rather limited and meetings drug on and on. There were so many new rules that had to be enforced without question or exception. Unlike many of his fellow leaders, he had no trouble remembering all of them.

Four shrugged in response and saw Eric's brow twitch. The other didn't like being dismissed but anything he could say would be too revealing in some way or another. He turned around to walk away and just barely missed a punch to the face as Eric seethed, then lunged, pinning him to the wall and forcing his gaze. It was intense, a storm brewing in his eyes. "Why are you turning your back on me?" it was a weighted question, heavy with feeling and emotion as Eric briefly let himself think of the way Four had been paying attention to the First Jumper; the way he had looked at her, his gaze lingering and appreciative. It was a look up until now that Four had privately reserved for him when he thought he wasn't looking. And now it was being afforded to another.

When the brunet avoided his gaze he shoved him by the shoulders into the hard rock causing Four to groan when his head hit with enough force to daze him. "What are you talking about?"

"You damn well know what I'm talking about," Eric replied with a snarl.

"I don't." Four wasn't going to read into it; he was going to force the other to say it plainly and he knew he wouldn't. Instead the other took a deep breath, swallowed, and took a step back.

"We have a lot to go over for tomorrow." Eric said instead, gesturing with his arm for Four to follow him. Four hesitated a moment, having no idea where they were going or why they were doing this now. They were walking down a private hallway that Four rarely traversed, as it was Eric's solely and Eric was a very private person. He had only seen his room a handful of times. There were windows to let in light, a bathroom, and a large bed. In true Eric form, not even a thread was out of place. It felt cold and untouched, like no lived in it.

Eric left the room, likely to get something concerning tomorrow's training regiments. It struck Four as odd because Eric never did have it rigidly planned out. He was good at testing every facet of the Initiates and finding their weak points. Every year he knew what to do to weed out the weakest links first.

Four walked to the window, fingers tracing a path through the cool haze that ghosted it. The path of clarity that remained seemed metaphoric of his self; he had paved his own way through unclear times and now he was confused where to go next.

It wasn't until a finger not his own had continued tracing the path he stopped at that he noticed Eric had returned. Four took Eric's hand, grabbing it by the wrist. He wanted to kiss it. His heart was beating so rapidly he thought it might just beat right out of his chest. And then he looked up into soft blues. Eric reversed the hold and was holding Four's wrist now.

He brought the brunet's fingertips to his mouth and let them slip past his lips, the tip of his tongue brushing against them.

Four groaned low in his throat and stepped closer, letting that same hand slide against Eric's body, reverent and gentle. A strong neck arched up as their lips met, Four's tongue sliding in, his other hand which had been resting on a strong bicep moving to trace a pattern on Eric's chest and slipping beneath his shirt.

Eric moaned, tongue moving languidly as they breathed the same euphoric air over and over again. The vial of lubricant he had went to retrieve was left forgotten on the table where he had set it.

He had intended to merely have their bodies join in a heated passion. But somehow this felt better. A meeting of more than their physical selves. He had never initiated a kiss of that particular caliber before. It was always Four.

The thought of Four walking away flitted through his mind and he gripped the other tightly by his arms, his shoulders, anything he could to keep him grounded, to keep him near.

Their gripping, pushing, and pulling landed them on the floor but neither were winded, neither stopped their ministrations. It was as if this was the only chance either of them would ever get to touch one another like this. Four nipped Eric's neck and Eric drew back in for another kiss.

Part of him wanted to question why _now _- why Eric was acting like this - but he felt doing so would shatter the scene like glass, break the illusion, and be would wake up alone in his bed, his Divergent mind teasing him yet again with what he so desperately craved. Eric mistook Four's thoughts for sudden disinterest and pulled away when the other attempted to draw him back, standing up in a cold and efficient manner, as if he had simply jumped up from series of push ups.

"Eric-" the other had his back turned on him and Four took a step back. Eric didn't turn his back toward someone lightly; it was too vulnerable, but like a viper hidden in the grass, dangerous.

He _knew _better than to put his hand on Eric's shoulder when he had been given the cue to make himself scarce, but he had done it anyway, both shocked and expecting the fist the whirled around to punch him in the throat and make him choke for as many seconds as his name. It was retribution for their earlier sparring match; it was the blow Four hadn't given then, given to him.

The lack of oxygen had had him instinctively clutching his throat as he went down, but Eric had caught him, using his impressive upper body strength to push the both of them onto the bed.

Four had just regained his ability to breathe when Eric drew in for a slow, sensual kiss, shoving Four back into the bed when he touched him. Instead Eric ran his hands over Four's sides, nipped his neck and drew back in for another kiss. He mouthed words against Four's skin and pinned Four's hands when he moved to touch him again.

Everywhere Eric kissed smoldered like the fire beneath the surface that had marked them Dauntless at their own Choosing Ceremony.

As soon as Eric had released his hands he ran them across the other's strong jaw and reveled in the sight of the other man, eyes closed and leaning in to his touch as if he biologically _needed _it.

The Dauntless leader drew Four's hand from his face and leaned in, lips ghosting the corner of his mouth before stopping at his ear. "_Leave._" and like that, it was over. Eric had stood and disappeared into his bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Four lingered a second longer and then abruptly stood, his world spinning on a tilted axis as he quickly made his way out of the room, stupidly hoping Eric would watch him leave, call him back, shout at him angrily, _anything. _

Anything was better than nothing.

Anything was better than this: always hoping and praying for more against all odds and rational thought, only to be reminded that the rest of the world operated in a sensible way. Maybe his Divergence made him crazed; made him think that like him, others could be more than one thing.

Of course it was always wishful thinking. And everyone seemed keen to remind him of such.

It made the tattoo on his back burn.

* * *

><p>Four had gone back to his room, trashed it, and then put everything back in place. He wanted to change the sheets; they smelled too strongly of Eric: reminded him of what was so close his fingertips could brush it, but he could never get a handhold.<p>

He laid in the bed, hand caressing the sheets and head filled with thoughts of the people they had once been. He remembered himself, scared and angry. So eager to fight but never able to win.

He remembered Eric: the skinny sixteen year old Erudite who had told him he would make leadership and _had. _It was his unfailing determination that Four had fallen in love with. All this time they had walked the thin line between enemies and lovers. But unlike Eric, Four doubted he could ever walk away. The other was so ingrained in him. But Eric could walk away, couldn't he?

It was probably all a game to the other.

Mocking him, the sky outside had cleared up and he would drift off to its beauty with heavy thoughts. Even if he found it hard to sleep, he didn't have the luxury of _two_ restless nights. He had to be ready for the Initiates' training tomorrow. Eric would do much worse than punch him in the throat if he let their personal encounter affect his performance as a trainer; besides, it wouldn't be fair for the Initiates if he wasn't a hundred percent on his game.

* * *

><p>"<em>Two minutes.<em>" Four had shouted as the blaring lights turned on and everyone groggily jumped into their uniforms.

The one thing they couldn't afford were slow Dauntless. One had to be fast: to know what to do and be able to make a split second decision at the drop of a hat. Four led the group into the training compound, taking note that Christina, Will, and Al, were at Tris' side.

_She_ _would_ _do_ _well_ _to_ _choose_ _her_ _allies_ _wisely_, Four thought. Christina's mouth would get everyone around her in trouble. He had tried to teach her that lesson but the angry defiance in her eyes had told him sure enough that it hadn't been as successful as he would've liked. Al was a coward; perhaps unfit to be in Dauntless in the first place. People had surprised him before though, and Will looked like his time in Erudite would serve him well in Dauntless, just as Eric's did.

_Eric. _Four shook the thoughts of the man out of his head. The last thing he needed to do was think about him.

Right now they were two trainers on civil terms. Nothing existed between them.

* * *

><p>They started with drills, easy enough to be sure. Running back and forth, but what they didn't know was Eric was picking out their weaknesses. First Jumper visibly lagged behind everyone in every thing but speed. But one could not be a successful member of Dauntless by running away. It took more. It took running <em>toward <em>it. Edward looked to be a top contender and Peter stood out as well. First Jumper wouldn't make the cut.

Four had to have known that, yet he still silently encouraged her with his eyes when she had looked at him expectantly. It irked Eric to see the other so blatantly wasting time on a soon-to-be Factionless.

"Alright, that's enough." Initiates stopped running and turned toward him. "To be in Dauntless you have to defend others. You can't do that if you don't know how to defend _yourself. _If you're weak - if you can't fight - then you don't belong here." The faces that stared back at Eric were swelled with pride. They all looked as if they had what it took. Well enough, he had more than enough experience to weed out the pretenders.

"Get into pairs of two. I want you to practice close quarters combat." In demonstration, Four drew into Eric and attempted to land a blow with the blunt of the force coming from his forearm. Like he had many times before, Eric blocked the attack with his own forearm and returned it in kind, Four smoothly deflecting with his opposite arm. They went like that for a few seconds and simultaneously dropped their high raised fists. "Just like that."

Eric let his gaze travel over all the Initiates, and just as he had thought, First Jumper wasn't hitting her partner hard enough. She was going easy on Christina and the other was doing the same. He wanted to move into the next phase of training but couldn't exactly have them practice the move they had _just_ learned for a mere few seconds.

Four had begun pacing the room, circling around the Initiates and watching their form carefully. Eric followed him, noticing how stiff the other's posture got. He walked faster, brushing against Four who had abruptly stopped and swallowed. He loved getting a reaction out of the other.

"_Eric._" Four warned.

"Four." He whispered into the other's ear.

Four grunted; he was at odds with himself. Aroused, angry, confused, frustrated. Each emotion seemed to be on a repeat cycle.

"_Time._" Eric had said a few moments later when he caught First Jumper's worried gaze on Four. "First Jumper," be gestured to her and she looked confused which made him grin internally, "Last Jumper. In the ring." This time he let his grin slip, so subtle only Four and perhaps the Candor girl only noticed.

"How long do we go for?" The girl Four recognized as Molly asked.

Four opened his mouth but Eric beat him it, gaze straight ahead. "Until either one of you can't continue." Four looked over at Eric, eyes widening ever so slightly.

"Or until one of you concedes."

"Not according to the new rules," Eric rebuffed.

"It takes courage to know your limitations." he said lowly. When Eric didn't reply, still looking self-satisfied, he added, "Good thing this rule didn't exist when we were Initiates."

Eric clenched his jaw but otherwise didn't respond, looking on as the auburn haired girl threw all of her weight into a blow that merely glanced off the other's shoulder.

She was doing her best, red-faced from exertion, while Molly hadn't so much as broken a sweat. "Stop playing around." That got Molly to hit harder and faster and First Jumper who was barely keeping up before, had stumbled and fallen from the onslaught of blows.

They weren't an even match; she didn't have a ghost of chance, and Eric gave the nod of okay for Molly to finish it when the girl had looked to him questioningly.

It was over with a kick to the jaw.

And Four walked away.

* * *

><p>More sparring matches ensued and Eric called them afterward, Four lingering in the background as the First Jumper - Tris her name was - rejoined the group, her jaw sporting a bruise. He brought the scoreboard up; this was where the real training began. "See this? This is your lifeline here. If you're below the red line after the first segment of training is through, you're out."<p>

"_Out_?" someone whispered. "Where do you go?"

"You'll find yourself factionless." Eric answered. " We don't need weak links here." The hushed chatter grew in volume and Eric caught someone ask about going back to their old faction. "You can't return to your factions."

Christina was the one to voice what many were thinking. "Why weren't we told this?"

"Would you have chosen differently if you had known? Out of fear?" It was an easy bait that she avoided by looking down and away. Eric dared anyone else to say something with his eyes but no one did. He felt the barely contained fear. Saw it in their eyes.

Tris was at the bottom of the scoreboard; she looked so crestfallen. And it made him smile.

* * *

><p>Dinnertime rolled around again and Four found himself given a wide berth. He didn't know why at first until he looked over to his right and saw Eric. Tris was nowhere to be seen, though her friends sat together, chattering on about the day with obvious glances their way.<p>

"Well hello there," Eric grinned.

Four got up and left, quick strides taking him as far away from the object of his affections as humanly possible. He didn't have it in him to keep up this game.

Though not one to be deterred, Eric followed, several paces behind him so as not to be detected. He stopped when Four did, hearing the harsh breath and repeated sounds of blows against a punching dummy.

He watched the scene play out. Watched the way Four looked at her - took note of the way her breath hitched - saw Four's hands on her hips, lingering unnecessarily. Eric grit his teeth when Tris pulled in close, their lips centimeters apart. Four had pulled away, taken a deep breath and reiterated his advice, telling her she didn't have the muscle or upper body strength to punch the way she did, that she needed to throw more of her weight into her blows.

Eric tried yet again to tell himself that what Four felt for the Stiff was merely a sense of camaraderie; that they had bonded over the fact that they both had come from Abnegation. But the logic didn't check out.

Tris looked at him in private fashion: the way one would look at a lover. And for some reason that bothered Eric.

* * *

><p>"You know you shouldn't give special attention to Initiates. It's a good way to get her killed." Eric said, striding into Four's room while the other undressed. It was good advice, though perhaps unnecessary considering the great lengths the Transfer trainer had gone to sneak in advice.<p>

Four paused and then flung his shirt off. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on now. We both know what I'm talking about. Or should I say _who_?" Eric had always been self aware. And right now he knew he didn't want Tris any closer to what was _his. _

He stepped close, hand tracing the intricate tattoo that spread across Four's back. All the factions were lined up.

Four swallowed when he felt Eric kiss his neck. Felt his breath ghost across his shoulders; it reminded him too much of that dream. All that was left now was to have him dangling in the air. Though his heart was racing like he currently_ was. _

There was something unusually intimate about Eric's touch; they weren't in the throes of passion, yet the man was being gentle.

The thought left his mind when Eric bit his neck harshly, not enough to break the skin but close, and worked his mouth over that same spot, over and over. It made Four want to draw Eric in, kiss him the way he hadn't been able to kiss Tris. Because the girl was too whole and too innocent. He was afraid he would taint her. He couldn't taint Eric though; they had the same fatal flaw.

The light coming into his room had drawn close with the blanket of night. The moon deciding it wanted to be especially reflective, painting Eric in its glow.

Four let his hands travel all over the other's body. Softly, gently, for the first time.

He had never touched the other in so completely, and if he had, Eric would have surely made some snide remark about Abnegation. But Eric wasn't saying anything. His eyes were closed as Four continued his ministrations, tracing fire into the other's exposed skin.

Eric must have known because he grinned, looked up, and slid his own shirt off.

Sure, they had had sex against the wall, the window, and on many other surfaces, but Four wanted Eric in his bed. Wanted his scent so ingrained there that it would be impossible to make vanish.

He led the other there, walking him backwards as they nipped each other playfully. _Playful. _Eric was being _playful_, nuzzling him and letting him reward him with the very same. Four made sure not to say anything, as it felt as if words would break whatever was going on between them, or whatever spell Eric must be under.

When Four unbuttoned his pants he kicked them off, hearing them land somewhere away from sight, the other doing the same.

Luckily the vial of oil still remained from the other night. Four had been meaning to put it away - he really had - but every time he had gone to do so it had been too much for him. _This_ was too much for him: knowing that any moment he could wake. Because there was no way this was all real. It had to be as artificial as his Fear Landscapes, well doctored up by the recesses of his mind.

Eric drew his attentions back by rolling from under him much the way Four had grown used to seeing him do in other situations like battle and training. It solidified the whole situation, defining it in his head as reality when Eric leaned over him and pinned him.

It was all about power between them: having it - giving it - taking it. It was their _thing. _The thing that made them special.

And right now Four certainly believed in some form of higher power, what with Eric perched above him, naked and completely comfortable with it, nipples perky and as aroused as the cock between his legs.

Four bit his lower lip, eyes traveling over the perfection poised over him. He let his hands wander freely, nearly gasping to match Eric's own when he pressed his fingers purposefully into the blond's lower back. Eric rutted against him then, letting his fingers trail up and down his biceps. It made Four want to grab him - to flip their positions and fuck him raw - but Eric would not allow him to do so. He pinned both of Four's hands above his head with one arm and worked himself open with his free hand.

Four couldn't joke anymore that Eric was shit at multitasking, not when his oil slick fingers disappeared inside him while he lit a fire in his belly, their members moving against each other.

Simultaneously their eyes nearly rolled back from the intense pleasure. Eric was in control here; he said it with his eyes and his cocky grin, and Four didn't dare put his hands on the man's hips when his arm was released. This was all Eric, and he would choose how it started and how it finished.

He was fighting the tight coil in his lower belly, already wanting to come with the way Eric's strong hand was firmly stroking him. And then he impaled himself on his cock, pausing only to position it and then sinking down to take all of him. Four's arms were strained from him keeping them rooted at his own sides while Eric leaned forward to lick and nip the same spot on his neck with the temperament of a lion licking its paws, slow, languid, and no concern for the restraints of time.

Eric grinned at the effect he was having on the Dauntless trainer. He bounced on his cock, once then twice, drawing gasps and relishing in the powerful need Four had to touch him.

So he permitted it, taking Four's hands and placing them on his shoulders while he moved up and down Four's hot member. Four pushed his hips upward to meet Eric's downward thrusts and Eric groaned deeply when Four had that perfect spot and continued to jut up into it, his hands on his hips being perfect leverage to slip so deeply into Eric and make him feel so full. "_Ngh._" He knew the sounds he was making were animalistic but Four was making them too.

It took every ounce of him not to come right then and there, trapped between sweet ecstasy and a warm body. But it wasn't about him; it was about Eric. And so he drove into the other's body more insistently, taking Eric's cock in his hand and stroking it in an erratic rhythm.

Eric came seconds later, come spurting so far some of it had ended up on Four's neck. Four came a few thrusts after, emptying inside of Eric.

* * *

><p>Four had expected them to lay side by side for a small moment, enough to gather their bearings, and then like always, Eric would depart. But he didn't.<p>

He surprised Four by remaining by his side, in his bed, and working at his neck with renewed fervor.

And it wasn't until Four's neck was sore and Eric had deemed whatever work he had been hard at complete that he redressed.

Against his better judgment, and every self preserving bone in his body, Four grabbed Eric by the waist when he turned to leave and drew him into a kiss. Eric pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him once more, indulging the brunet with a long, sensuous kiss that involved their tongues gliding against each other.

Eric leaned down so his lips were level with Four's ear. "Watch yourself. Don't go poking around. Not everything is as it seems."

The words left the other with a million questions and no answers, but after that Eric had left. It didn't feel cold or cruel but purposeful. Like Eric had just done something that he would owe him for. The words were mysterious enough but Four had an inkling of what it meant.

As of late, Erudite had been skulking around, bringing in weird shipments and large computers that Four could hardly see the use for.

He had let the importance and suspicion of their presence fall to the back of his mind because he had been lingering on other things. But he had to get to the bottom of whatever it was. Erudite was scheming up something, and with Abnegation's rule being put to question, it was a mass grab for power with Erudite being the lead contender. Though it wasn't like Four - or _Tobias_, should he refer to himself, cared; he didn't. He could care less who held the scepter and called himself king, and especially held no regard for Marcus' position being usurped.

But lately there had been talks of Divergents and their increased threat. It was no good fortune that Jeanine was at the head of it all because she knew how to get things done. Her eyes were cold and piercing, and if she weren't so calculating, her mind working in linear and logical ways, than she would have made Dauntless leader instead.

Four's heart suddenly started pounding in his chest. _Does he know? What if he knows? _The thought repeated itself over and over in his head. He had never thought of the possibility of Eric coming to find out that he was Divergent.

When Eric had first seen his tattoo, he had asked why he got it and Four had lied and said that it was the manifestation of his hope that one day all the factions would exist harmoniously; the blond had laughed and said that maybe he belonged in _Amity_, so he could hold hands around a fire with those 'Bread-puffing Tree Huggers.'

But if he knew would he turn him in? Would he keep his secret?

Had he known _all_ _along_?

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed; I was blown away by the support. I so desperately wanted to read these two but after scouring the internet and reading the few fics there were, I had to write this. See you next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't late at night and Four thought that he ought to make some attempt at fitting in with the other trainers. It wasn't as if him being standoffish was a new thing; he wasn't buddy-buddy with any of them, but he couldn't be completely alienated. Still, he felt as if he didn't belong with them. His sense of camadarie was to his self. He felt as if he had a purpose he hadn't founded.

Eric grinned at him from where he was positioned near Max. Max was going on about some thing or the other; something he could deal with later. But now he was occupied with sending flirtatious glances Four's way and watching him redden, feign unaffectedness, fidget, then look anywhere but at him. It was an entertaining game that he never grew bored of.

And maybe he would tell the other of the pronounced kiss mark he had left on his neck.

_Maybe._

Perhaps after he was done admiring it - basking in the knowing gazes that shifted between the two. No one would dare raise a word, much less a fist against Four with him in the room, or the reminder of their closeness upon the man's neck. Eric was far from stupid; he knew telling Four to stay away from trouble was no more effective than trusting a Candor to lie.

Four wouldn't be able to resist finding out more, digging in deeper. But the others were getting suspicious. He had to safeguard the Four. His need for righteousness and due process would lose him his life one of these days, but certainly not if Eric had anything to say about it. He wasn't done with him. He'd _never _grow bored of Four. Four was all he needed - all he desired.

"Eric," Four had called out and the blond had left Max's side to assume his place in their back and forth banter. "Bet my team's gonna win tomorrow in capture the flag."

Eric grinned. "Oh yeah?"

* * *

><p>They were preparing for another night, already falling into a predictable pattern. After dinner was lights out, which wasn't very late into the night at all, but that was easily compensated by the fact that they had to get up early each morning, with nothing to look forward to but cold showers and rushed meals. So Tris had been doing as she usually would, pulling her reflector tightly against her and slowly attempting to block out all the sounds around her. There were hushed whispers, whimpers and tears from fellow homesick Initiates, even prayer.<p>

It was sudden and out of nowhere but screaming - loud and bloodcurdling - ensued.

Christina had jumped up out of her bed and looked over to Tris fearfully, asking with her eyes if they were going to check it out. Of course it could be no more than someone tripping in the dark, or perhaps even the odd night terror, but neither could ignore the garbled howls of pain that continued.

Tris got a light source and they slowly made their way around lightly shining their light in the faces of other Dauntless. They guessed they had been excused the trespass in etiquette without anyone doing much more than groaning and turning over because most couldn't sleep but weren't foolhardy enough to go check it out, though the curiosity certainly held steadfast.

What they had finally come upon in the quickly silencing room made Tris choke down vomit. Edward, first on the leaderboard, was stabbed through the eye with a butter knife. Someone had taken it from dinner and kept it, cornered him in the dark, and stabbed him in the eye. It had been low and _cowardly. _Nothing like Dauntless. Looking over she saw Christina freeze up, eyes widen and water as the realization of what _could _- all the _could _- ran through her mind at a mile a minute and fear made her shake uncontrollably.

It was Tris' first instinct to stop the bleeding and help him while people stared.

She had probably saved his life, though nothing could save his eye.

And when she turned, self satisfied, standing right over her shoulder, was Peter. He was looking at Edward in the way a craftsman would admire a fine piece of work: a job well done. And when his eyes met Tris' she felt her lower lip quiver. "You monster!" she yelled before she nearly lunged at him, just barely restrained by Christina who had held her back.

Christina was whispering something fearfully, something Tris was seeing far too much red to comprehend. She wanted to hurt him - to make him pay. Instead she stomped off to tell the one person in Dauntless with authority that she could trust: Four. Because would understand. He would listen. He would see due justice brought down upon Peter's head. And she spotted him in The Pit, joking around with Eric, though his arms remained crossed, his posture slightly closed off. She supposed it was because he was surrounded by people who didn't value Dauntless' true nature. They valued strength and power, but she was quickly coming to see that was not all that made one Dauntless. It was just one small facet.

"Four!" she called out and automatically drew the attention of the whole room. It wasn't intentional, she hadn't meant to be so loud but then again hadn't expected the chatter to fall so swiftly upon her entry. She was simply an Initiate, though she didn't expect her presence among the leaders and trainers to go completely unnoticed.

"It's Edward! Peter did it!" she said in one breath. "Stabbed him in the eye." Four had taken an unconscious step forward to put his arm on her shoulder in a comforting manner but Eric had stepped between them first, his eyes steely.

"And what proof do you have?" Eric demanded.

"Proof?" she had uttered, looking pleadingly toward Four. "I saw the way he looked - he was _there. _He-" Eric raised his brow in exasperated disbelief and that was enough to make her pause. She didn't have proof. The proof had been jutting from Edward's eye as he screamed out in agony. The proof had been in the way he had hovered over her as she did all she could, watching his suffering not in shock, but in satisfaction. And when his eyes met hers, he _knew _she knew. And he didn't care; he grinned. "Please." It was a last ditch effort but she had to try anyway.

"Tris-" if they had been alone the outcome would have been different. But in front of all these people, he simply could not give voice to the words poised on the edge of his tongue. The other leaders and trainers wouldn't take him favoring her word alone lightly. Not when the accusation was against Peter, number two - or perhaps he should say _one _- now on the leaderboard. "If you have no proof then this discussion is over." Four said instead. He avoided her gaze, already knowing there was a hurt look in it that he would not be able to bear looking at. He just hoped that she understood.

"This is _serious. _Don't you care about your highest ranking Initiate? He's number one. And now he-"

"And now he's on the train to join the Factionless where he belongs." The words were cold and cruel, but seeing as they had come from Eric's lips, Tris wasn't rendered surprised. She didn't think it was possible to expect so little humanity from someone: and then she met the blond leader.

She cast one final gaze toward Four, her eye catching the purple mark on his neck, before she hurried off.

Eric stepped in close after the quiet curiosity among the others had dissipated and whispered, "You did good." The praise felt hollow, despite its good intentions. Eric's warning hadn't fallen on deaf ears, and the fact that Jeanine hadn't personally ordered him executed meant that Eric was keeping his secret for some reason or another, or he didn't know. Four thought it best not to try and decipher the intricate inner workings of Eric's mind, for therein only madness would lie.

"I took your advice." was all he said, taking one step forward before pausing and letting his hand pave a feverish path down Eric's bicep. Eric let his eyes move around the room, taking in the questioning gazes. He wasn't threatened by them but instead made cocky, biting his lip and openly gazing at Four lustfully. It was that unashamed courage - that admittance before the others - that Four found himself admiring. It was sexy.

Eric didn't care who saw them; he didn't see anyone else as a threat. It made Four realize that out in the open he could never kiss Tris like that. She had so much to lose.

* * *

><p>"You'll be tested to your breaking point and beyond, reworked until you get it, or you realize the futility in trying," Eric had been saying. Four stood off to the side. When Tris had looked to him she couldn't contain her grin, nor could he stop himself from returning it. It was infectious; he swore the corners of his mouth moved of their own accord, regardless of his say.<p>

The notion was childish: grinning like an idiot for no reason.

He looked over to Eric, grin still adorning his features, and it subtly dropped to be replaced with genuine concern. The other looked tense, his shoulders stiff, and tired, as if he hadn't slept well. Four approached, waiting until the other noticed him before putting his hand on Eric's shoulder. "You feeling alright?"

Eric averted his eyes and shrugged off his arm. "Nice to see you have the time to do anything other than ogle Initiates." he said coldly. Four frowned, opened his mouth to argue, then closed it.

"I wasn't _ogling _anyone other than you." his voice had dropped to sultry. He didn't want to fight. Not here. Not in front of Tris or the other Initiates; especially not when Eric was angry. Eric had a tendency to let his fists do the talking. "I just have an appreciation for true talent and potential."

"Hn." Eric made a noncommittal noise in his throat and with barely a snap of his fingers had the Initiates following him to the next training ground where they would be practicing their shooting skills. Here too Tris was much improved, hitting the target lethally square in the chest each time, a sharp contrast to her performance earlier in the week.

Peter stood out as he had done all throughout training as proficient and accurate, and Christina and Will surprised Four by being able to keep up, though Al seemed to be taking leaps and bounds _backward_, when he hadn't been a strong contender in the first place. His gun missed the mark almost every shot and his hands shook. Four sighed at the sight; it was too late in the course of training to learn him the basics: basics that even the lowest ranking on the leaderboard had at least some concept of.

He wouldn't make it to the next stage of training, that much was for sure. Though it did stand out as peculiar when Peter, of all people, shoved Al and barked for him to pay attention to how it should be done while he demonstrated proper technique a few times over.

Though the answer as to why did not remain a mystery for long when Peter possessively put his arm around his waist and led the two of them off to their knife throwing practice.

* * *

><p>It was pretty straightforward; hit the target with the knife. Tris seemed to stand out as one of the best along with Peter. "You're kinda good at this," Christina had said and continued to throw. Though she hit the target, her accuracy wasn't as spot on.<p>

Al however didn't seem to be faring as well. All his throws either missed entirely or glanced right off of the target. Four pulled the collar to his sweater up a bit more before moving over to Eric's side. Max had made a comment in passing about his rather noticeable _kiss mark. _It was what Eric had been trying to do: mark him for all to see.

Eric saw the motion from the corner of his eye and grinned. "Hiding something? What's under the collar?" he asked with that same self satisfied look in his eye that Four had grown accustomed to.

Four frowned and lightly touched his neck, covered as it was by his high collared sweater. "You _know._"

Eric feigned confusion. "Do I? You know, I don't really recall. Must have not been that memorable." Four opened his mouth to retaliate with the anger Eric had been trying to elicit from him. He wasn't able to though because Al's terrible throwing technique had diverted Eric's attention and he had walked over. Four followed and their proximity made Al even more nervous, as he suddenly got even _worse._

Al grabbed another one of his knives and threw it, the knife bouncing pathetically off its target. "Go get it." Eric said.

Al paused mid-throw. "What?" he stuttered, "Right now? While they're throwing?"

"Are you scared?" Eric asked instead of answering.

"Of being impaled by airborne knives? Yeah, kinda."

Four opened his mouth to stop Eric. Though it was true that Dauntless would have to be able to withstand bullets whizzing by them in the heat of battle and push down the fear of being hit by them, or the self sustaining need to turn tail and run, Eric wasn't going about it the right way. Fear was a strong enemy, best conquered by the individual themselves.

"Everyone stop." Eric commanded and seconds later all throwing had ceased and every Initiate had turned to look at Al. Tris looked on with worry. "Now you're gonna stand in front of that target while Four throws. If I see you flinch, you're _out._"No one had to ask what out meant. It meant he would find himself factionless.

Four preferred this and Eric knew it, sending him a look that said he had eased up on the Initiate for his sake alone. Four was too good of a thrower to hit the boy accidentally; even if he became factionless, he wouldn't be hurt. He grabbed his knives and prepared to throw one.

"_Stop_!" Tris called out and Four paused uneasily. Eric's face became unreadable as he stared her down, his hand moving from his face to clench at his side. "Anyone can stand in front of a target. It doesn't prove anything."

"Then take his place," Eric seethed. "Same rules apply." And wouldn't he have _loved _to see her factionless - to see her gone and _far_ away from Four. He hated that she had the gall to think she was in control - the audacity she possessed to think she could go against him. She was putting herself on his map in the worst way.

Four gave Tris a look that asked what the hell she was doing. Eric wouldn't let this go; he knew him too well and the affront wouldn't go unpunished. Besides, she should have known he wouldn't have hit Al. And even if he did flinch, he wasn't going to last in Dauntless long anyhow. He was quickly dropping on the scoreboard, the number next to his name growing higher as the days passed. She was unnecessarily playing the martyr.

"Eric-"

"Throw the knives." The other said coldly, eyeing Four with something akin to distrust. It hurt.

Four picked up the knives as Tris looked at him with all her confidence. She looked at him like she knew without a doubt he wouldn't hurt her. All her trust.

Opposite ends of the spectrum pulled and tugged at Four's chest. He wanted Eric to know he would catch him from no matter what height he fell from but at the same time he didn't want to let Tris down. Little by little her innocence had been tearing down his protective barriers. Her kindness and her need to help others uncovered the Abnegation hidden within himself. It made him want to be proud of it.

On the other hand there was Eric. Eric was his everything. How could he _not _be?

Four drew in a small breath and held it as he let loose the first knife that landed far above Tris' head. Eric _tsked_. "Come on now Four, you can get closer than that."

"A little off the top?" he played along and Eric smirked, stepping closer.

Four made a show of spinning the knife in the familiar way that Eric had taught him. Showy, accurate, and deadly. Eric certainly appreciated it, playful amusement alighting his features. When he threw it it landed closer to her head, not harming a hair, and she swallowed but did not flinch.

The next throw landed at her side and she blinked.

One left.

Four spun it, Eric looking impatient, then threw it past her head close enough to graze her, and just as he had anticipated, it did, a single drop of blood welling up from her ear. She had been holding her breath, and now her eyes looked watery. Eric was satisfied at her shock of having been cut; the look of betrayal. "Okay," he said, "points for bravery, Stiff. But not as much as you lost for opening your mouth." Eric let his gaze travel across the room, lingering on those who looked at Tris proudly. "Remember, we train soldiers here, not rebels." With that he left, excusing the rest of the Initiates and Tris let her eyes fall from Four and her breath slowly begin to even out.

The rest of the Initiates had been given a rare moment of free time: some chose to take it, others continued training.

Tris waited until the room had cleared out to touch her ear. "You cut me," she said, her voice audibly cracking. She hadn't expected that.

"You think he would have been happy with me just throwing them at you? No, you would still be up there right now. It wouldn't have been over until I hit you."

"So I'm supposed to thank you?" she asked incredulously. She touched her ear once more, though the blood had already dried.

Four didn't say anything, but the look she gave him made him frown. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have." was all he said instead and walked away to let her stew in whatever emotion she was feeling; after a little rational thought, maybe she would come around and realize he really _had _been trying to help her.

He made his way to the pit where he came upon Eric and saw Christina and Will meet up shortly after with Tris and head in the direction of the tattoo parlor. He wondered briefly what she would get tattooed. The trainer who had done her Fear Landscape had said she had done exceptionally well for a first try. Four was scheduled to do the Initiates' Fear Landscapes for the rest of their training period.

Spotting Eric helped take his mind off any thoughts of the girl though as the blond presented him his trademark smirk. Even Max wasn't looking too far up on his high horse tonight.

Though Eric kept casting furtive glances his way, he didn't come over. Four went over to him instead and basked in the glorious sight that was Eric's genuine smile. _Genuinely _happy to see him. What he didn't expect though was for the man to nonchalantly yank his collar down and admire the kiss mark he had made, touching it fondly at first and them rather possessively. Four swallowed audibly.

Max raised a brow and cleared his throat. "So when's your guy's infamous Capture the Flag game, huh?" he tried not to look at Eric, at the way he stepped close to the other man, at the way he relaxed once he pressed his body into the other man's. He was his friend; his _closest _friend, and as such, he worried about him.

Four was a wildcard.

He had been trying to get Eric to see that for awhile now. Only problem was that Eric _liked _wildcards. He thrived on toeing that dangerous line and the rush that followed.

"In a about a week," Eric had answered derisively. Eric then turned to Max and gave him the cue to leave. He wanted to be intimate with Four, not sit around talking about what kind of training the Initiates had in store. He was a seasoned leader, not some washed up fool who had no clue what he was doing. He and Four had been putting them through the ringer for years now and they would continue to, even _after _Four finally lost interest in that Tris girl. It was all a passing phase, he told himself.

Max knew exactly what Eric wanted and didn't back down immediately, choosing instead to whisper an ominous warning in his ear, stare Four down meaningfully, and then slowly walk away.

_Be careful. _Eric was trying. He was doing his damnedest; he hardly needed Max's reminder.

Still, he wouldn't let that girl take from him what was rightfully his_. _Four was _his. _

_"_You definitely should have given her a haircut," Eric said, holding back the acidity in his tone, "I think she needs it." Four didn't know what to say to the blatant display of jealousy. Eric wasn't a jealous man. There had times before when they had invited others into their bed and even then, Eric had welcomed it. He had never acted liked this. And right now Four didn't know if he should be worried or ecstatic to find that he held at least some semblance of meaning to Eric; even if it was just sex.

* * *

><p>They both headed back to Four's room, passing the tattoo parlor where Four saw Tris nervously play with her sleeve as she attempted to get the attention of a tattoo artist there. He knew her, though only surfacely, and knew she wouldn't ignore a paying customer. It looked like Tris was trying to ask her something though, and she certainly looked reluctant to give up any answers.<p>

He would find out later, perhaps. Right now Eric required all his attentions.

As soon as they entered the room, Eric had shoved Four up against the wall and kissed him. They both drew their breaths from each other, turning their heads ever so slightly to draw in an extra required oxygen, but Eric's mouth insistently followed Four's, refusing to pull away or let the other man do so. Four was starting to feel lightheaded. It was almost too much: too much sensation and not enough air.

When they finally pulled apart, Four reversed their positions and pushed Eric in the place he had been, hands going around the man's waist. He squeezed his ass once then twice, drawing a groan from Eric who uselessly rutted up against Four's shoulder. While he appreciated the tightness of the man's pants when all he could do was look at it, it certainly wasn't conducive to getting the man naked and Eric laughed as he had to help Four take his pants off of himself. After that was done though Four kissed the blond curls above Eric's quickly hardening member, slicked him up with his saliva, and drew him into his mouth.

He wanted to see Eric in pleasure. Moreover, he wanted to be the _cause _of said pleasure.

Eric's legs were struggling greatly to hold up his weight while Four's mouth was on him, so Four guided the both them down and they ungracefully slid more than anything else, reveling in the erotic view presented to him.

He growled when Four took him all the way down his throat, his nose flush against him. He wanted - no - _needed _to have the use of his hands. To thrust his hips a bit. But Four had anticipated this and had pinned his arms to the wall, rendering him unable to do anything but receive what he was given. Unlike their last coupling, Four wielded the pace of their physical satisfactions. It was all in his hands.

He kissed Eric, releasing his hands, quickly undoing the button to his own pants and bringing their hardnesses together, stroking them simultaneously and rubbing them against one another. Eric placed his hand below Four's and helped get them off as they brought their lips together once more in a passionate kiss.

"I say we make it interesting," Four panted into Eric's neck when they were both on the cusp of that crashing wave of pleasure.

"Oh yeah?" Eric answered, no less breathy but interest fully peaked. They had started off competitors, competing for their rightful places in Dauntless and ultimately against each other and they had still retained that.

"Four games," Eric snorted and Four kissed him to quiet his ensuing sarcasm, then repeated, "Four games. First game: we split up teams like we always have. Second game: we sit out while the Initiates split into two and go head to head. Third game: you and I against all the Initiates," that drew an excited grin from Eric's lips, "and lastly, we randomly assign small groups of our choosing to go against not only us but the rest of the Initiates."

Eric leaned in and kissed Four soundly. "A man after my own heart. They won't know what hit them." And by they - by the face in his mind - he meant _Tris. _

He would personally ensure that she paid for even _thinking _about encroaching on his territory. No other Initiates or trainers, or even other faction leaders had been so stupid.

* * *

><p>Dinnertime rolled around again but instead of watching Four from afar or surprise joining him, the two had sat down together. Eric mostly picked at his food, earning a playful chiding from Four about being wasteful, to which he snorted back "<em>Abnegation.<em>" but had eaten anyway.

All of Four's attention was on him, so strongly that he almost wondered why he was even worried about being usurped.

Tris had been about to sit by them by relented when her friends would not in terms of not sitting there and Eric grinned; at least The Candor girl and Erudite boy had some self preserving sense in their heads.

* * *

><p>They had returned to Eric's room and Four found himself marveling at how absolutely lucky he was. The stars outside were shining bright, the wind blowing gently against the glass, and Four had pulled Eric up from his position laying down into his arms, earning an inquisitive stare from the other man.<p>

Instead of answering with words, he answered with thought and touch; something just as visceral, but far more powerful.

He touched Eric's arms, softly massaging his thumb into it with small circles. The touch moved to Eric's shoulders which had been more than slightly stiff, pressing deeply into the tense muscle there and earning a loud groan of appreciation.

Eric leaned his head back, arms circling around Four's neck and pulling him into a kiss.

It started out with small pecks here and there, moving from the outer corner of his lips inward. Eric however had different plans and deepened the kiss, nipping at Four until he opened his mouth and drawing his tongue in.

Four moaned into the kiss and let his thumbs move down to Eric's nipples as he turned his boy around in one graceful move and settled atop Eric. And he knew Eric's body so well it felt like he knew it better than his own, playfully biting the other's jaw and moving back up to continue their kiss.

Eric opened his legs a little without having to have been asked to and Four settled between them. "Fuck, you're perfect," he said as he settled his head into the crook of Eric's neck.

Eric closed his eyes peacefully and it was then that Four noticed how tired the other was. Eric hadn't been getting enough sleep. Something had been keeping him awake. Four pulled Eric's silken sheets and the heavy comforter.

He was about to slide off the other and simply sleep next to him, or perhaps even go to his own room when a pair of hands stopped him and Eric opened his eyes, telling him with no unclear certainty that he was to stay and that was final. "I'm not going to let you leave my side," he whispered. "Not now. Not ever."

It was the most Eric had ever said regarding the two of them. It made Four's heart swell with emotion.

Four kissed Eric once, only intending to show him he felt the same way but Eric deepened it.

After they separated, Eric stared at his ceiling for a small while before looking to Four seriously. "I need you to be careful."

"You keep saying that," Four replied. "But you never tell me what exactly to be careful _of._"

"Erudite."

"Erudite...?" Four questioned. "What do they have to do with anything?"

Eric sat up and Four moved over to his left. "I know you must have noticed their presence." Four nodded. "They're - _Jeanine_ - is planning a coup. Of sorts..."

"You mean taking control from Abnegation?" Four snorted, bitter and unfond memories of his father pushing their way to the forefront of his mind. "I could hardly care less."

"Well I think you need to _start_." That got Four's attention. "Abnegation isn't going to relinquish control and Erudite isn't going to give up; there are too many Divergents there. Jeanine is going to start a war." The thought of being at war didn't scare Eric in the least. Those orange vials full of nanobots however, did.

Four frowned. "Why?"

"She's going to create an army. An army of Dauntless soldiers that'll bend to her will without the nuisances of their own personal consciences."

"Why?" Four repeated, his heart pounding.

"So she can effortlessly take out all of the Divergents." Eric said simply.

Four's hands shook. He didn't want to die. He hid them underneath Eric's pillow and feigned a sudden tire he certainly wasn't feeling. When Eric drew close, he pulled him close and held him tight.

He was Divergent.

Eric was not.

He wouldn't put Eric's life in danger to save his own. He _couldn't_. Even if that guaranteed his own death. Either way would have him torn from Eric's side. He would leave or die willingly.

_I love you, _Four mouthed without words, completely unaware of the fact that Eric was looking at him.


End file.
